


A Herd of Rampaging Klixen

by Mysti_Fogg



Series: Madelaine Shepard [4]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Banter, Canon Compliant, F/M, Interspecies Romance, Paragon Commander Shepard, Spacer (Mass Effect), Vanguard (Mass Effect), War Hero (Mass Effect)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-29 19:59:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12092343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysti_Fogg/pseuds/Mysti_Fogg
Summary: Garrus takes Shepard to the top of the Presidium to shoot bottles.





	1. I Want to Go Up There

**Author's Note:**

> I think we can all agree there's no way Commander Shepard and Garrus Vakarian only shot at 3 bottles. What we see in the game is time compression, and I'm uncompressing it.

"Well, here I am, exactly where I want to be." Wisps of Shepard's auburn hair blow in the faint breeze, and she's surprised at how relaxed she feels. There are no doubts or worries, there's just this perfect moment up on a beam above the Presidium overlooking a stunning cityscape. But she's not looking at that right now. She's much more interested in the hopeful but cautious turian in front of her. "I love you, Garrus Vakarian."

Garrus raises a finger to scratch his head. His blue and grey armor has that recently polished look. "Wow. The vids Joker gave me, well, they never got this far. There was the part about sleeping together, but this is. . ." And he thinks she can't make him blush. It's just not a color change for turians, it's in the subharmonics. "I don't know exactly what to-"

Shepard kisses him because perfection includes effort and understanding, and he is worth both. "Who needs a vid when you've got me?" Her reward is a flare of mandible with a glimmer of something more in his eyes as he bends her over backward in a deep kiss, as if she were as light as a feather rather than a muscular marine. She's feeling giddy as he stands her up again.

"Now before we go back, there's one thing we're going to settle once and for all. Not saying you don't know how to handle a gun, just saying some of us know how to make it dance." Garrus and his back up plans: If she had turned him down, would they still have had a shooting contest to reaffirm their friendship? Yes. He wouldn't want them to be off form when they faced a new threat. But the fact that he thinks of these things is part of why she loves him.

"There are a few people in the galaxy who've seen me in action, Garrus," she takes the gun confidently, even though in this contest she'd put her own money on him, "and they seemed impressed."

"Yeah, but I've actually seen you dance, Shepard. No comment." Oh, so he's going to make sure she's properly invested in this, too. He's good.

"A'right, Vakarian. You're goin' down," she readies herself.

"And don't worry, I loaded it with practice slugs for when you miss," he says. That's reassuring since sooner or later, one of them will miss. But not this time. The bottle shatters in the sky. "That was an easy one, let you build up your confidence," he says. 

Hah. She may not be a sniper, but she is a marine. She doesn't need easy. 

He passes her a bottle. "Long range, I wrote the book. Nobody alive can do this, not even Commander Shepard. Give me a tough one." She settles back into a perfect throwing stance and hurls the bottle with all her might. He hits it with barely any thought. "Ha. I said a tough one."

"Step aside," She says with determination as she takes position, "Do it." And manages to hit a fairly difficult shot. "Nobody alive, maybe, but technically, I died." She smiles wickedly at him.

He seems a bit perturbed that she made that one. "Yeah, well, next time we'll throw in a herd of rampaging klixen. That's how you separate the rookies from the pros." 

She laughs as she sets her gun down and picks up another bottle. "Not husks? I think we have plenty of those lying around somewhere." She tosses another bottle and he picks it out of the sky.

"Nowadays husks aren't quite as imaginative. I do miss the LOKI and FENRIS mechs. It's like people only buy ATLAS mechs these days." He looks over the next bottle before tossing it.

"More difficult to kill with one shot, but very fulfilling to punch to death." She hits the target and picks up the next. "So," She twirls the bottle between her fingers. "What would have been the proper turian response?"

"Mmm?"

She clears her throat and puts on her diplomatic voice, "In the interest of facilitating future discussions on days when I'm in a bad mood and not being patient about cultural differences, what would have been the turian protocol when you asked me to be yours alone and I wished to indicate my agreement to those terms? Clearly the correct response isn't 'I love you.'" Her voice is gently teasing. And she tosses the bottle because it's fun to watch him go from social confusion to refocusing on his target and bringing the gun up smoothly to make the shot.

"This seems like you're not playing fair, Shepard."

"You wanted a herd of rampaging klixen, Vakarian. I happen to be all out, so I'm just doing my best to give you what you asked for."

He laughs. "Alright. If you want to play that way..."

"I do. We've decided to be together on this is a hypothetical last day alive. No reason to hold anything back."


	2. Build Up Your Confidence

Garrus sets his gun down while he considers how to explain to someone who isn't turian. The answer just seems obvious to him. "It's not that a turian couldn't say the same thing. Just most turians would be concerned about the inevitable separation when they're stationed apart, words like that make it worse. We don't like to say things if we can't be there to back it up. Better to say something like 'Let's go talk to our commanders and file some requests to ensure that we stay at the same duties for a bit.'" He reaches down for a bottle and twirls it through his fingers. "Though that's pretty pointless for either of us. You're a Spectre: You make your own plans even if you don't take advantage of that often enough. And you can requisition me from the Hierarchy for as long as you like for the same reason, so it doesn't matter what the primarch might say." 

Shepard nods. "I guess that makes sense when everyone enters the service."

He looks down the bottle, grasping for words that might distract her, questions that he wants answered. The problem with this kind of game is not knowing if he wants answers to questions that might be difficult. "So, what was it exactly that you needed to figure out about us?" 

"Well, I..." He tosses a bottle, and she shuts her mouth so she can focus. Not going to make it that easy for him to win. When the bottle successfully shatters she cocks an eyebrow at him. "I'm not that easy to throw off my game." She sets the gun aside. "And I didn't have anything to figure out about us. I still can't promise much with the Reapers destroying the galaxy. But I was trying to figure out when to invite you to move in with me. I should have asked the moment we were finally able to talk privately, but the leader of your entire solar system was on board and I didn't have time to study up on all the ways personal relationships impact working relationships for turians. With humans, sometimes romances can be used to discredit people or ideas, and politics had to come first for the good of both our planets."

He's standing with his mouth slightly open and not moving. Shepard smiles mischievously, "Should have saved asking you to move in with me for when you were shooting." In a step he has her in his arms again, twirls her around, and gives her a kiss. "So. Yes?" She looks him straight in the eyes.

"Definitely," his enthusiasm is briefly replaced with caution "If you're sure it won't upset the crew."

"If it upsets anyone, I'll reassign them. It is none of their business. We're not going to have much spare time, but what there is of it, I want to spend it with you. And our diplomatic mission is over."

"Were you ever worried about upsetting the crew?" Garrus sets her back down gently, but doesn't let go, watching her face closely.

She frowns a little. "No. Not back before Omega-4. Not really. But you were right that if things didn't work out, facing the Collectors would be a kind of relief." She strokes his scarred mandible. "I never doubted it would be a night to treasure, but that was no guarantee of how we'd manage afterward. I couldn't even gauge myself properly: If I'd be overprotective or possessive or scared or thoughtless or any of a thousand other things. With waiting, there wasn't time to get worked up about the personal stuff before the mission."

Shepard steps away to pick up the next bottle, as this reminds her of a related question. "How many girlfriends have you had?"

Garrus chortles before he hits the target. "None. Where do you think I'd find the time?"

"What do you mean?" She resettles her gun. 

"I entered boot camp at 15, served a tour of duty, entered Spectre training, switched to C-Sec, and then had to work twice as hard proving myself to move up the ranks since my father was the top ranked detective in the bureau and neither of us could afford accusations of nepotism. And then I went to Omega." He swipes up another target and throws it. "Why? Is there a line of men somewhere you made promises to?"

She takes a little bit of time in hitting the target, thinking of what to say. Clearly Miss Flexibility never counted for anything other than a good memory, and it seems likely there were more of that nature. But he doesn't seem to think he's lying or being evasive by not at least mentioning that sort of thing in passing. Must be another relationship cultural difference.

"Mmmm... no line of men or women. I guess humans just handle dating a bit differently. Usually everyone has a childhood sweetheart or crush. I had a boyfriend back when I was 14 and we stayed on the SSV Copernicus for more than three years. Kids' stuff." She shrugs. "After that, I tried dating, but most people couldn't cope with my career putting me in danger. The few I got serious about, they'd usually be trying to persuade me to stay and sidetrack my career. Nothing ever lasted long. And you already know Kaidan and I were a thing for about two months." Shepard flicks a bottle up to her hand with her toe.

"So, how likely is Primarch Vakarian?" She throws the bottle high rather than far this time to vary the challenge.

His face takes on more serious lines as he aims. "Mmm. I was fairly certain that one was coming."

"Rest of our very short lives together since the day ends in 6 hours. I think I have some right to know now."

Garrus hits the bottle at the top of its arc, "I just don't like thinking about the people who would have to die for that to happen. Some of them are family friends I've known since before I could talk. So I'm not keeping track, exactly. "

"I'm sorry. This is less fun to tease you about than I thought. Though I do want to have some idea of if I should plan for it." 

"No. You're right. It's something you should know. On a planet of 6.1 billion, I'm somewhere in the top 100 at the moment. But that's only because you were right about the Reapers. Once this is over, I expect my status to decrease when my job is eliminated ... if that makes a difference to you?" She can hear a worried tremor to his subvocals, like she might change her mind.

"No. It doesn't make a difference to me. But my duties would change if I had to cart around the leader of a star system. And I'd have to seriously rethink ever putting you on the ground crew. This is better. Less complicated."

He picks up the next bottle, takes a deep breath and flings it. "Is your past with Kaidan why you would have shot him?"

She flinches, but manages to reaquire her target and shoot. She puts down the gun before answering that one, and isn't sure she wants to pick it back up again. "Maybe. I'm not sure."

Garrus gives her a look at the evasive answer, "It's not like you to want to shoot someone for their mistakes, even one like pointing a gun at you."

"True. I just don't know if it's dating Kaidan that made me want to shoot him more, or just the past in general." Shepard begins reflexively checking over the gun to give her hands something to do while she thinks, and somewhere else for her to look. "I... I guess I'm disappointed in him that I had to give him the Commander Shepard speech. We worked together for a year. He should have known me well enough from that alone. That I let him closer to me and he still didn't know me..." She shakes her head. "Well, I don't think he ever looked. Thought I was some kind of goddess of goodness and purity. It makes the disappointment sharper that I misjudged him so badly." Now that the gun is disassembled, she begins cleaning it. "And he did fall for what I said. Normally, I believe in my speeches and I figure that's why they work. This time it was just what I thought he wanted to hear because I didn't want to shoot him. I guess I'm a bit angry I had to put on a show for him, again, after Mars ... and then my duties seeing him in the hospital... Maybe there's a part of me that wanted an excuse to shoot him after all of that." She begins reassembling the weapon. "I don't know. I'm hoping he gets reassigned elsewhere so that I can stop having to be responsible for him as part of my team." She looks at him. "Not going to be a problem, is it?"

Garrus brushes a hand over her cheek as she looks for some kind of reassurance. "No. I'm just worried about you. You've been looking a bit worn out lately."

"Just comes from fighting a war without military support for two out of four years, and having to maintain shields against attacks all by myself for six months when I'm no techie to begin with." She puts a hand on his chest. "When I went back to Earth, it was almost as if I'd just woken up in the Cerberus lab again. I was lost and confused and just focused on surviving. When I saw you again on Menae, that's when I finally felt alive again." Shepard leans in to press their foreheads together.

Garrus puts a hand on her shoulder and whispers "I feel like I've been running a marathon to get to the point where I could meet you again. A marathon where I'm dodging husks, and once I've got the rhythm for that, they start in with marauders shooting at me. And when I get used to that there's brutes trying to trample me, and if I ever get used to that, they'll find some new atrocity. But if I keep running and climbing, you'll be there at the end. And you were." He strokes her cheek and this seems to be getting more intense than she would want for someplace where everyone could see them, so she backs away.

"Now," Shepard says, "I think we were competing for something about guns, and I would hate to have you think I was trying to get out of it. Every marine is a rifleman, I have the honor of the Alliance Navy to defend."

Garrus gives her a rueful laugh. "They don't deserve you."

"Maybe not, but as you were pointing out, it's not like me to give up on anyone. Whose turn was it?"

"My shot." He walks back to his gun.


	3. My Favorite Spot on the Citadel

Shepard picks up a bottle. Thirteen bottles left. Maybe she can hold Garrus to a tie? But does she want to? It's inevitable that he will win if they keep going. Miss a shot on purpose? Not like the Alliance deserves her. But Garrus does and he probably wouldn't enjoy it if she just let him win. 

"We should do this again next year," She closes her eyes and enjoys the artificial city, sun, and air. "This is the most fun I've had in ... I don't know how long." She smiles at him. 

There's no mistaking the pleased look in his eyes and the flare of mandible that she's learned to think of as a smile. "I wasn't sure if you'd like it, but I thought it would at least be something different."

"It's the best of everything. Best view of a city I've ever enjoyed. Best result of sneaking around on random bits of a ship where I shouldn't be. Best company. And I got swept off my feet, too. You're the only person I've ever known who did that for me, like I was a normal girl." Shepard tosses the target. "What were your first impressions of me?" 

The bottle flies far, and Garrus talks while he tracks it. "That you were a strong woman and a brave leader. Determined. You were so determined. I met you at a low point in my career and you made me feel hope again. I was never going to get anywhere with my case, you were a possible last opportunity. When I was with you, I started to believe that all my work was worth the sacrifices. And I was right about you: You saved my case and gave it a dramatic finish with a shootout across the entire Citadel. " He hits the target.

He tosses the same question back at her as the next bottle flies through the air. 

"It's hard to remember now because you've changed so much. Eager and dedicated kid who should have been helped more by his colleagues." The shot splinters the bottle.

"Kid?" Garrus does sound slightly offended.

"Our species age at roughly the same rate. I was four years older than you when we met. You went to boot camp when you were 15. I was born on a dreadnought and my earliest memories when I was two or three years old are of drills about what to do if the ship was taken," she sounds weary. "I grew up battle-hardened. When we met, I was a war hero gathering medals and citations and the most difficult assignments." 

"I was a detective in my own right." Clearly a point of pride for him. Well, obviously. They both married their careers long, long ago.

"And you were unhappy and unsure of yourself and your path and it came off as being young and still searching for a purpose." She shrugs. "Still trying to live up to other people's ideals, not being on sure footing with how to find your own way." She leans back against the crate and looks up at him. "Sometimes I see parts of how we talked back then in how you talk with Vega now. He's got an entirely different way of expressing it and a bit more baggage, but he's still just a kid trying to find his own way underneath all the bravado. It's nice how you let him win some when you're trading stories, because we all know you've got him beat even without counting taking down Reapers on the side. And between you and me and Joker and Wrex, that poor guy has to deal with finding himself while working with living legends."

"Eh. You're right. He's a good kid. Really competitive, but a good kid." Garrus picks his gun back up and fiddles at a slight scratch. "What changed your mind about me?"

"I never changed my mind about you. You changed," Shepard shrugs. "Now you're all the things I always thought you could be if you wanted it. And more. And I suppose I don't have my head up my own ass about being the perfect soldier even if the Alliance still likes to frame the propaganda that way when it suits them."

She tosses the next bottle more lightly, almost as if she's afraid of the answer, "Why did you give up on C-Sec and Spectres after I died?" 

His chuckle is bitter. "Because when you died it seemed like nothing good would ever last." The sound of the bottle breaking is satisfying. "You were dead and they were lying about the Reapers. Just when I'd thought good people might be able to make a difference, they tried to erase you." Garrus pulls his mandibles in tight. "There was nothing I could do against the council and it was going to get us all killed. I gave up."

"I don't believe that," she says firmly. "You just made a strategic retreat. If you'd given up, you wouldn't have become Archangel."

Settling down by the box, he sighs, "I didn't mean to be Archangel. It just happened. I did small things to help the poorest people, and I could see how much it meant to them. I couldn't stop. I was finally getting somewhere when Sidonis betrayed me and stripped it all away again. There didn't seem to be any point to anything. Just taking down as many bastards as I could before they dropped me. I gave up."

"Nope. Just a low point ... with possible death ahead, so maybe you wouldn't have recovered. But if you did manage to get out of there? You would have been fine. And since you somehow got into a one on one punching contest with Garm and got out of that, I think you actually might have come up with something."

"Shepard..." he sounds exasperated. "I don't need a cheerleader."

"Alright. You don't need one right now. I just can't help myself when I see an impossible situation. I always think there must be some way out. But you want to be a princess in a tower, fine."

"What?"

"Classic Ancient Earth plotline is the damsel in distress, and the oldest version of that is the princess in the tower waiting for rescue, unable to get herself out. Has to wait for the champion on the white charger ... um... horse .... er... it's an Earth animal you ride. I think. I've only ever seen pictures. Anyway, have to have the hero save her because there's no way out on her own."

"Shepard, I'm a trained military sniper and hand-to-hand combat specialist, I can take care of myself."

"Exactly. That's what I was saying. I'm glad we agree that you could have gotten out of there without me." Her smile is mischievous. He throws his hands in the air at her persistence, leading her to ask "You sure you still want me?"

"Absolutely. Though maybe with a touch less stubbornness for the sake of stubbornness and a bit more sleep."

"And yet I'm keeping pace with your shooting."

"It's a nice day. I'm taking my time picking you off."

The next bottle gets a careful looking over as Garrus considers his phrasing. "I know you're always forming plans and adapting them. You said before Omega-4 that I'm the man you spend your life with." He throws the bottle. "When did you plan that?"

Shepard tracks the bottle. "Mmmm... there are two answers. The first is that I never planned anything. You were just always there when I needed you because you're perfect." She misses the shot. 

It's worth missing to watch Garrus do his victory dance. "I'm Garrus Vakarian and this is now my favorite spot on the Citadel." There's something young again about him. There are too few moments like this, where they're both just happy.

"It's windy up here." Shepard makes a token grumpy reply on behalf of her tarnished reputation. 

It's worth it as he puts his arm around her in comfort. "There, there, it's okay. I know there are other things you're good at," his voice in her ear turns her legs to jelly, and she leans more heavily on him for support. "However, I do think you owe me an answer ..."

"I didn't make the shot. I don't think I have to show you all of my cards." She lifts her eyes to his and keeps her gaze challenging.

"And I paid with a question that tells you plenty." Piercing blue eyes drill into hers. 

"The second answer is that I planned on keeping you the second time we met, that shootout in Dr. Michel's clinic. I was impressed with your shooting, and you had a case to solve, I had a Spectre to catch, and I remember thinking 'Here is someone I should keep tabs on because he's talented, smart, and friendly and he cares about his work. If I become a Spectre, I'm going to need to be on good terms with C-Sec to be effective, and here's someone whose life will intertwine easily with mine. After this debacle is over, we'll talk guns and get cups of coffee together when I get into port. We'll end up as those impossible legendary friends who help each other's careers and are some of the few who can understand each other as we grow older because when you aim for perfection there aren't many who can understand that dedication or want to put up with it.'" She leans back against him. "So, that plan was an utter failure. But my intuition is spot on."

"Your intuition is why no one in their right mind will play you at cards," Garrus snarks back at her reflexively, trying to process what she's just said. He can almost see that other reality where they have coffee dates to talk about work and encourage each other along and there are no Reapers. And maybe one day they do end up on top of the Presidium for a shooting match because there is no one else he would ever think to share this day with.

He holds her to himself and whispers. "I think this is better. This way, we're not alone at the end of the day."

"Definitely," she reaches up to touch his face. 

Garrus can see glints of gold in her amber eyes, infinite probabilities and possibilities of being together seem to collide, blinking in and out. He picks her up and carries her to the car. "Let's get back to the ship. I believe I have some moving to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... that's done. That was exhausting.
> 
> I will now declare that I've written enough stuff (some of which I haven't posted yet) to start putting it together in a series. 
> 
> I'm trying to build toward a longer post-ending story (which has yet to move beyond the point of partial outlines). We'll see if I can make it. In the meantime, I hope you're entertained.


End file.
